


In Plain Sight

by Lythane



Category: Thor (Comics)
Genre: Dubious Consent Due To Identity Issues, F/M, Genderfluid Loki (Marvel), Lady Loki, M/M, Mild Sexual Content, Sibling Incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-29
Updated: 2018-07-29
Packaged: 2019-06-18 10:57:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,837
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15484260
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lythane/pseuds/Lythane
Summary: Loki disguises herself to spy on her brother, but how far is she willing to go to keep up the façade?'“May I kiss you?” Thor asks, his voice deep with want.Loki closes her eyes, momentarily frozen in time at this point of no return, a cliff edge before her that begsjump.'Dubious consent because Thor doesn't know Loki is Loki until part way.





	In Plain Sight

**Author's Note:**

> Set in no particular timeline, Pre-Thor 1, more comic centric than film.
> 
> Note: I'm basing Loki's use of pronouns and opinions on his genderfluidity partly on the comics and partly on my own experience, so apologies if it doesn't match with anyone else's headcanons.
> 
> Edit: minor edits to flow/continuity

Sat alone in the corner of a local tavern, dressed in a simple black dress (design reminiscent of her green and black tunic, though not so obviously that someone might mistake her for herself), thigh high boots and a tan fur cloak, Loki sips on a glass of rich red wine.  Her spellbook lies open in front of her and she flicks through it idly, the pages old and worn with notes. 

The sun is just beginning to set and the room is alive with chatter and music; men finished with work for the day arriving to relax and drink. 

It’s the third time this month Loki has ventured out as ‘she’ and taken seat in this tavern - it’s far enough away from the palace that people are unlikely to make any wild assumptions about her identity, and busy enough that she can go unnoticed hidden away in her favourite dark corner. 

It’s pleasant to escape the stress of the palace even just for an evening, and simply exist without responsibilities, but most of all, Loki enjoys people watching. There’s a lot you can tell of a man by the way he holds himself, the way he speaks, or greets a friend. 

Currently, over the rim of her glass, she is watching Thor.

He arrived only a few minutes ago but already the room has flocked to him like flies to honey, eager to hear of his travels and feats on the battlefield. 

The women in the tavern crowd to Thor also, laughing too loudly at his jokes, swooning to his side and clinging to his arms.  Thor glows in the attention, golden like the gods-damned sun, and just as eager to entertain as the rest are to bask in his presence.  He carefully places Mjolnir on the floor before sitting and beginning a tale.

It goes much the same way each time; Loki listens from her quiet corner as Thor enchants the crowds with a story of adventure or battle.  He does not know Loki in this form and likely will pay her no mind, so she watches and listens and daydreams of what they could have, if perhaps, they did not know one another.  If her feelings might be returned.

Today Thor is (loudly) recounting a trip they had taken together a few weeks ago.  Entirely because Fandral had teased them that they couldn’t; Thor and Loki had ventured off into the mountains to hunt down a storm troll.  They brought it to heel between them, slaying the beast in an arduous and exhausting battle that at one point had _almost_ relieved Thor of his head.  Regardless, a successful mission, and a very large decorative horn now rests on her bookshelf at home to remind her of their feat.

Thor exaggerates the trolls size, how quickly they managed to kill it and how close to death he actually came - _I saw the gates of Valhalla for a mere moment, I swear it_ -, but Loki is interested to see how much Thor beams when he tells the group of Loki’s prowess on the field, how his magic was a sight to behold, more impressive than any other sorcerer on Asgard.

Loki finds herself a little flustered at the pride that swells in her chest.

Eventually the boom of Thor’s voice dies down and the crowd disperses, allowing Loki to watch Thor with ease where he sits.  A serving girl hovers at the table, clearing some of the empty cups onto a tray, and _somehow_ finds her way into a seat beside Thor.

Thor amuses the girl, slipping his arm around her waist and whispering (what Loki assumes is filth) into her ear to make her blush so deeply.  The girl strokes her hand up Thor’s arm, fingertips tracing the swell of his muscles with a tenderness that makes Loki bristle, before slapping Thor’s hand away from her playfully when it makes its way to her ass.

Loki rolls her eyes, unimpressed.  (Not that her eyes need be anymore green with the jealousy that pangs in her chest.)  She forcefully turns her attention back to her book - thought at this point she’s just staring at the page for a distraction.  She downs the last of her wine and looks at the empty glass remorsefully.

A bright laugh reminds her again of the activities playing out across the room, and in a moment of bitterness, Loki tips one of the full glasses on the table with a flick of Seidr.  It spills its contents straight into the girl’s lap and she yelps, removing herself from the table and busying herself with clearing up the mess. 

Loki smiles to herself, satisfied.

The next time she spares a glance in Thor’s direction he is alone and looking right back at her.  Loki freezes, their eyes lock, and Thor flashes her a self-assured smile.  He’s slouched comfortably in his chair with drink in hand, and she can do nothing but flush at the attention. 

_Does he know?_

Stuck in a mental loop of ‘Leave now’ and ‘Let’s see how this plays out’ Loki just watches dumbly as Thor finishes his tankard of mead and stands, hammer in hand, with clear intent to approach her.

_Oh fuck._

He stops beside her, placing Mjolnir down on an empty chair with another perfectly charming smile.

“May I buy you a drink?” he asks, gesturing to her empty glass.

She stares at him for a moment, weighing up the risk of the encounter.

“I suppose,” she answers uncertainly, pushing the glass towards him by the base.  He whips it up with a smile and returns to the bar.

Loki watches him leave, worrying her lip with her teeth.  _It could be a game_ , she thinks.  Perhaps having his flirting rebuffed for once might take her hot headed brother down a few pegs… and they could laugh it off later. 

Loki shuts her book as Thor approaches again.

He places her glass down with a new mug of mead for himself and sits beside her on the bench, close enough that Loki can smell leather and ozone, exhilarating and dangerous all at once, for in her disguise she is knowingly leading him astray.   It sends a shiver of something long wanted and forbidden down her spine and she pulls her hair over her shoulder nervously, fingers running through the long dark strands.

“I apologise if this doesn’t suit you, wine is not my drink of choice and there appears to be many,” Thor says apologetically.

“Perhaps you should have asked,” Loki replies coyly, lifting the glass to her lips.  _I’ll make him take it back_ , she muses, before the drink touches her tongue and she realises it’s the same wine she usually orders.   Interesting.

Thor laughs, leaning his elbow on the table to face her better, “Yes, I should have, is it to your taste?”

Loki smiles, placing the glass back down, “It is satisfactory,” she says.  _It’s perfect_ , she thinks.

Thor beams at her, and Loki is caught for a moment in the bright blue of his eyes.  It’s not that she’s never looked before but, something about having all of his attention on her is… intoxicating. 

“May I have your name?” Thor asks, “I feel as if we have met before, but I know that not to be true for I would not forget the name of someone so captivating.”

Loki huffs a laugh to cover the nervous jitter in her breath. 

“I am certain we have not met,” she replies, “And you may not have my name, but you can tell me yours.”

Thor seems surprised for only a moment, and Loki wonders if it her feigned lack of knowledge of him and his celebrity status, or the fact she has chosen not to tell him her name.  She assumes the first.

“Oh, very well, my name is Thor,” he beams, “Son of Odin.” 

“Well, it’s a pleasure to meet you, Thor, Son of Odin,” Loki says coolly, offering him her hand, amused by her game.  He takes it gently and places a kiss across her knuckles, sending a flush to Loki’s cheeks that she’ll be mortified to remember later. 

“Are you a sorcerer?” he asks brightly, gesturing to her spellbook.

“I am,” Loki answers.  She glances to the book to make sure it doesn’t have ‘property of Loki’ scrawled across it or something similarly revealing then vanishes it in a flash of green. “Asgard does not have many, does it?  I have had trouble finding any literature during my trip.”

Thor nods, “But those we do are incredible, I’m not particularly gifted with Seidr but my brother is very talented.”

“Is he?” Loki asks with a grin that is entirely self-satisfactory. 

“Very much so,” Thor begins, before beginning a beautifully woven (and clearly practiced) story of another trip they had taken together.  She can’t help but get caught in his tale, for he is animated and amusing - acting out parts, mimicking voices for speech and at one point, zapping a small bolt of lightning in the air to mimic a burst of Loki’s magic. 

He’s every bit as charismatic as everyone likes to say he is, not that this is news to Loki.  She almost feels bad for tipping that mead into the serving girl’s lap.

When Thor finishes the story with a joke, Loki gives an airy laugh, fingertips gently running along the sweeping neckline of her dress where it curves across her breast.  Thor’s eyes follow it before flicking up to smirk at her.

“Where are you from?” Thor asks.

“A galaxy away,” Loki replies vaguely, “I tend not to stay in one place for long.”

“That is a shame; perhaps tomorrow I could to show you the palace?” Thor says.  “So you can make the most of what Asgard has to offer, before you leave.” 

Loki almost scoffs at how ridiculous that seems to her - _would you like a tour of your own home?_ \- , but she can imagine the average girl going mad for the chance.

“I’m afraid I will only be here tonight,” Loki says with feigned sadness, crossing one leg over the other and letting the hem of her dress slip further up her thigh, a little too pleased with the way the movement catches Thor’s eye again. 

“Then perhaps we can find other ways to amuse ourselves,” Thor suggests, throwing his arm across the back of the bench behind her.

“Perhaps,” Loki agrees lightly, leaning in towards him slightly.  She can feel his hand by her shoulder, his fingers brushing over the thick fur of her cloak.

“It is very hot to be wearing so many layers, my lady,” Thor says, “Would you not be more comfortable without your furs?”

“Would you have me in nothing at all?” Loki asks coyly, before her brain has had a chance to filter the words.  She leans forward to shrugs off her cloak, letting the material slide off her bare shoulders in tease before dropping it to the bench beside her.  When she sits back, this time she is very much pressed to Thor’s side and the feeling of his body against hers makes her heart race.

Thor’s gaze is more than pleased as it skims over her figure and he leans closer to speak in her ear, “I would have you as many ways as you liked,” he says, lips curved to a smirk where they brush lightly against her cheek. 

Her eyes widen in surprise and she, for once, finds herself at a loss for words.  She makes the mistake of turning to him then, to seeing him so close, looking at her in a way she has only seen in her dreams.

“Oh,” Loki says hopelessly, quickly grabbing her wine when the temptation to lean closer overcomes her.  She takes a long drink, heart racing and face flushed.    

Thor takes a drink of his mead too, clearly amused by her reaction. 

“So,” Thor starts, putting down his empty tankard, “What brings you to Asgard?”

“Just passing through,” Loki says, a little distantly, setting her glass down beside his. Her attention is focused on the press of his thigh against hers, the way the edges of his armour press into the thin leather of her clothing.  Her mind plagues her with the thought of Thor’s body against her, his hands on her hips, on her waist, around her neck.  Her breath comes out hot and the warmth that pools in her gut is becoming increasingly harder to ignore.

Snapping back to reality she weaves a tale of a travelling apprentice; gathering knowledge and searching the stars for different practices of magic. 

Thor watches her like she’s the only person in the room.  He is captivated by her lies and seems genuinely interested in a way that Loki finds incredibly flattering; most are not so rapt with tales of magic.  In truth, she had not considered he may have interest in her studies, and briefly regrets being so secretive with them.

“You lead a very exciting life,” Thor grins, “The Norns must be smiling on me, that we would meet on your only day in Asgard.”

She runs her fingers around the rim of her glass, to keep her hands occupied lest they find their way onto his body.

“They are smiling on us both,” Loki replies.  This time when she turns to him, his arm slips from the back of the bench to curve across her shoulders and she is certain that her heart has stopped.

“You never gave me your name,” Thor says softly, leaning closer until their noses are practically touching.  He stops then, and Loki realises he’s waiting for her to make the next move. A move she knows she should not make.

“It’s better you not know,” Loki replies, breath caught in her throat.  She places her hand on his jaw as her heart hammers in her ears, caught like a fly in a web of her own design.  His stubble is rough under her fingertips and she wonders how it would feel against her skin.

“May I kiss you?” Thor asks, his voice deep with want.

Loki closes her eyes, momentarily frozen in time at this point of no return, a cliff edge before her that begs _jump_.

“Yes.”

His lips may as well have been poison for the kiss is electric, and the moment their lips touch Loki knows she is doomed.  She cannot ignore the way her body responds to him, the way they fit together as perfectly as she had imagined they might. 

Not even as her hands slip into his golden hair and he moans softly does she feel regret, too lost in her want, her selfish desire for something forbidden. No one must know what she’s done.  Thor must never know.

His hand mirrors hers and tangles into her hair as she kisses him deeply, welcoming his tongue when he licks into her mouth.  There’s no mistaking the man beside her for anyone but Thor, her _brother_ , who is kissing her like they had been lovers for centuries, who pants a little harder when she wraps her hand around his hair and _pulls_ , whose hand traces down the side of her body to land just above her knee.

She focuses on the feeling of it, heavy over the leather of her boots, and gasps a soft breath when the simple touch sends a jolt of pleasure down her spine.  She drops both her hands to his chest in response, allowing her fingers to trace the lines of his muscles hidden under his armour and imagine what might happen if they were somewhere more private. 

Thor’s hand slides further up her leg, reaching the top of her boots and onto the bare skin of her thigh.  The sudden touch of skin on skin is like a hot brand against her skin, pulling her from her haze and reminding her that _this isn’t right_ and _we shouldn’t be doing this_ and everything else that should have stopped her from venturing down this path in the first place.

She turns away from him to pant a breath, screwing her eyes shut for a brief moment of clarity.  The air in the tavern is thick with smoke and the alcohol in her blood is dizzying, and neither are lending help to the emotions warring in her head. 

Thor nuzzles against her neck instead, pressing an open mouth kiss to her throat that, had she been standing, would have brought her to her knees.

“Wait,” she whispers, bringing a hand to Thor’s arm and trying not to focus on the way his muscles move under her touch.

Thor pants a hot breath against her, “I apologise my lady, I do not mean to rush you, I-“

“No, it’s not that,” Loki starts. 

Thor tilts her chin up with a finger, and waits for her to speak.

Loki swallows.

“I must take my leave,” Loki says slowly, placing her hand on his throat to hold him still so she can avoid his gaze. (it’s too much, too close, too intense).

Thor slips his hand from her hair to the back of her neck in that familiar way that, now, makes Loki feel sick to her stomach with guilt.

“Stay with me,” Thor says, “I find myself drawn to you, tell me you don’t feel it too.”

“I-,” Loki says. _I can’t. We can’t._

“Please,” Thor says, planting another kiss on her lips that makes Loki’s heart stutter.  She melts into it, flicking her tongue to meet his as her hands slide back up his chest.  Suddenly his hands are around her waist and he lifts her into his lap with ease, not breaking the kiss.

Loki gasps into his mouth, pulse racing at the thought of being lifted so easily.  She cups his jaw as their kiss becomes sloppy and needy.

It’s a little cramped with her back pressed to the edge of the table and her knees to the back of the bench but Loki is flexible, she makes it work.  The new position hikes her dress higher, bunching it tight around her hips and barely covering her ass. 

Thor’s hands slide along her thighs greedily, pulling her closer until she can feel the very distinct bulge of his cock pressing hard against the thin material of her underwear.  Driven by nothing but instinct, she rolls her hips against him, tilting her head back to give him better access to her throat where he bites and kisses.

She moans to the ceiling, delirious in her want, lost in the thought of what could happen if they kept going, how quickly they could fall into bed together, lost in the thought of Thor fucking her right here on the table, in front of the entire room.  And no one but her would know the depths of her deceit.

She returns from her thoughts to the feeling of Thor’s thumb tracing along a scar on her inner thigh.  It’s an old scar, one so deep that it never really healed, from when they were young and stupid and Loki had fallen from his horse while they were chasing each other along the edge of a ravine.  Riddled with guilt, Thor had spent the entire week in the healing rooms with her, and had offered to carry her books for a month afterwards until she could put weight on her leg again.

Loki focuses on the feeling; once, twice, and third time he traces it until he pauses to push her back gently to lean against the table.  He stares at it for longer than a brief moment and Loki is suddenly, painfully sober.

“This is an interesting scar,” Thor says carefully.  Loki watches him closely, trying to catch the myriad of emotions flickering across his face.  He looks her dead in the eye and Loki feels the atmosphere in the room drop like the air is being sucked form her lungs.  “My brother has one just like it.”

Panic overwhelms her as Thor’s hand on her thigh tightens to the point of pain. If the rumble of thunder outside is a simple coincidence, Loki doesn’t believe it.  She tries to focus over the hammering of her heart in her throat, removing her hands from Thor slowly in the hope he might forget they were there. 

There’s a smudge of black lipstick on his lips, on his neck, and Loki can’t pull her gaze from them.

“I… It’s ...” Loki stammers. 

She’s been caught, the snare tightening around her neck with every breath.  Thor watches her with rage in his eyes.  The noise of the tavern crashes her senses like a wave to a cliff, shouting, cheering, music, all previously forgotten and now impossible to ignore.

The tavern is bustling with people now, drunkards packed in to every corner of the small room.  They may be alone at their small table but there is always attention on Thor.  They can’t speak here.

She glances to the side of the room where a staircase leads up to the rooms above, she glances to the door, then back to Thor between her legs.

Thor growls and Loki is remiss to find the fear it ignites only excites her further.

“Is this supposed to be funny?” he asks, hissing the words through gritted teeth. Loki is grateful, briefly, that he didn’t choose to shout.

“ _Come upstairs so we can talk,_ ” Loki says, voice strained.

“Loki,” Thor growls.

“No, just, shut up, come upstairs,” Loki says, “ _Please_ ,” she pleads.

Thor considers it.  Lightning cracks outside, flashing light at every window.  There’s more attention on them now.

Loki knows she can’t force him to leave, physically or otherwise - if Thor decides to make a scene then this will go downhill very quickly for both of them, even if Loki’s identity isn’t revealed.  She sits motionless, still viscerally aware that she’s straddling him with her dress hiked up around her hips.

Thor’s eyes scan over her and she resists the shudder that quivers on her skin.  His scowl strips her bare, pulling all her deepest, most putrid secrets from her chest.

He gives a brief nod.

“If you are trying to play me for a fool I will not hesitate to throttle you here,” Thor warns.  Loki doesn’t bother to answer, she doesn’t doubt his threat, and none of the snarky responses that tempt her tongue would be at all helpful now.

Loki slides off his lap, as gracefully as she can despite the small space.  She yanks her dress down, then grabs Thor’s arm, leading him until he pulls free from her. They walk to the staircase at the back of the tavern; Thor does not walk beside her. 

She climbs the stairs quickly, hiking up the edge of her dress where it clings to her to make the movement easier, not unaware of how doing so shows more of her thighs than is really necessary.  Thor silent behind her save for his heavy footsteps, and she dares not look back at him.

She needs to think, to plan… to... rationalise what she’s done. 

Most importantly, she needs an excuse.

All too quickly they are out of sight and in an unused bedroom (Loki picked the lock with a flash of magic after deciding the corridor was too public a place to air her dirty laundry.)

The slam of the heavy wooden door closing behind her reminds her again of her brother’s temper.  Loki takes a breath and turns to face Thor, briefly grateful for the darkness provided by the unlit fireplace.  He drops Mjolnir by the door, as a makeshift doorstop.

“Change back,” Thor demands, hands balled to fists at his sides.

Loki frowns. “No.”

Thor huffs, looking to the window, baring his teeth in a snarl. “Why?”

“Because I don’t want to,” Loki snaps, pulling her hair over one shoulder.  That seems to enrage Thor further and he begins to pace back and forth across the room.

Loki remains still and silent.

He seems to fight with his words for a while, opening and closing his mouth as he thinks.  When he turns to face her, electricity crackles between his fingers and Loki takes a step back instinctively.

“This trick, this-” he gestures up and down her body, “What, why Loki? Is this supposed to be funny?” Thor growls.

Loki huffs irritably, “This-” she gestures to herself, “Is not a fucking trick. This is me.”

“And getting me to kiss you? What was that?” Thor snaps. “ _You_ _knew_ it was me the whole time,what am I supposed to think?”

“I, look… it’s…” Loki stammers, finally cornered by her web of lies, every one of them strung like a tripwire before her.  Her eyes flit around the room nervously.

Thor laughs bitterly, “I finally have you at a loss for words? No excuse this time? Finally got you tongue tied?”

“That wasn’t meant to happen,” Loki says slowly. “I did not set out to… You came over to me!”

“I didn’t know it was you!” Thor shouts.

“Be _quiet_ ,” Loki hisses, casting a spell to soundproof the room further.

Thor continues to pace.

“Explain this to me then, brother,” Thor says finally, waving his hand at her dismissively.

“Sister,” Loki replies tersely. 

Thor scowls, “You wanted to talk, so talk.  Don’t test my patience.”

“I don’t have time to explain the intricacies of my gender right now,” Loki replies, wringing her hands to keep her from fleeing and likely making the situation worse.

Thor pauses for a brief moment, considering Loki with storm filled eyes.

“You should have told me when I sat with you.”

“I know,” Loki replies honestly, “I thought… perhaps, you knew.”

“And what does that say of me?” Thor barks, throwing his arms in the air in exasperation, “That I wish to bed my brother!?”  When he speaks again, she is too distracted to notice the way his tone changes to something softer. “Do you feel that way about me?”

Loki just stares at him, all too aware that her silence speaks louder than whatever lies she could have concocted.

“No one saw,” Loki says eventually, voice weary.

“Everyone saw! I had you in my lap in a room full of people!” Thor continues, pacing to the back of the room.  Thunder rumbles outside, rattling the glass in the window.

“This is too far, even for you Loki,” Thor says, kicking a chair with far too much force and sending it hurtling across the room.  It wasn’t going to hit her, but Loki shatters it with a blast of magic regardless and stares down Thor’s glare with her own.

“Thor-” She starts, holding out her hands in an attempt to placate his anger. “Calm down-”

“We will _not_ speak of this again,” Thor says bluntly.  “As far as I know, this never happened.”

He looks at Loki a moment longer, as if he might say more, but then turns leaves the room, slamming the door behind him so hard it falls off its hinges and hangs limply in the frame.

In the emptiness of the room, with nothing for company but her thoughts and her regret, Loki collapses on the bed.

 _Fuck_.

 

***

 

The first week after the incident is dire. 

Tension hovers between them like the heavy pressure before a storm and Loki goes out of his way to avoid Thor.  Loki does not take his female form, though some days he longs to, for fear that they might encounter each other again and Thor will be reminded of Loki’s unpleasant feelings.

(Not that Thor needs the prompt, for behind the closed door of his bedroom it is all he is thinking about.)

They do not speak during what limited time they are forced to be together, at feasts or occasionally during classes.  Loki wonders if time will fix this or simply split them forever. 

The thought festers and he knows if this is the end of their relationship it is entirely his fault.

After a month has passed to no incident, Loki risks a trip back to the tavern simply to escape for an evening. 

He stands in his room before the mirror; eyes tracing his silhouette in the dark; too sharp, too many angles where he wants curves.  Loki concentrates, letting a shimmer of green wash over his skin like a waterfall from head to toe until his silhouette refocuses as she.

She dresses, this time in black leggings, a plain tunic and a heavy leather coat, sparing a minute to adorn her hair with gold.  It feels right, like a breath she had been holding to breaking point. Her reflection smiles back at her before she takes flight in the form of a crow and flees the palace.

Loki flies to the tavern, finally relaxing when she is seated in her corner, alone, with a very very large glass of wine.  It is not as relaxing as she had hoped: Every blond man to walk through the door sets her pulse racing in fear, every booming voice a jitter in her nerves. 

 _Thor won’t come tonight_ , she tells herself, lest the Norns themselves wish it and damn us both.

Except there he is, entering the room with a presence that draws attention and causing Loki’s blood to run cold.

He enters the tavern with intent, spotting Loki almost immediately and proceeding to walk over and hover by her side. Loki doesn’t have time to think why, or rather, to make a quick exit, because his eyes are focused on only her and she is trapped beneath them.

“May I take seat with you my lady?” Thor asks, his voice tilted with nerves.  Loki watches him incredulously, because surely her thick-headed brother could not mistake her for a second time, not after what has happened.

“What.”

Thor takes a seat anyway, pushing the other empty chair away to the table beside so no one else may take seat with them.  Loki sits up straighter, unsure. 

“Thor,” she says uncertainly.

He seems anxious, or tense, or both, and that doesn’t particularly set Loki at ease.  It’s only when Thor drops something off his shoulder that Loki realises he was carrying something. 

It looks at first like a dead animal, and Loki is exasperated to ask why Thor is carrying it about, but then he lays it out over the table with more care and Loki finally recognises the dark tan fur - her cloak. 

From last time.

Right, she must have left without it.  

It brings an odd sense of déjà vu to be sitting with him at the same table as before, though the atmosphere couldn’t be more different.  Thor seems lost in thought; he runs his hand over the top of Loki’s cloak, feeling the soft fur between his fingers.

Patience is not one of Loki’s strongest traits. She takes a long drink of her wine, picking another face in the crowd to stare at, waiting and giving Thor time to say whatever it he seems to be stewing over.

“Why come here tonight?” Loki asks.

“I went to your room and found you gone… I think, we should… talk,” Thor says slowly, “About what happened. I thought you might be here.”

Anxiety gnaws at Loki’s gut like a starving animal, her mind speeding through all the possible ways this conversation could go wrong. 

“You had my cloak this entire time?” Loki asks, in hopes of sending the conversation a different way.

“I… needed to think.”

Loki frowns, “With my cloak?”

In her periphery she sees Thor takes his hand away from the fur and his expression sets with some bizarre look of determination. She vanishes the cloak to her pocket dimension, lest she leave it for someone else to hoard.

“I wanted to apologise,” Thor states.  Loki almost laughs, it’s ridiculous after everything she’s done that he feels the need to apologise.  She traces her nail through a crack in the table’s surface.

She still doesn’t face him, and nor does he look at her.

“I don’t want you to think you can’t be whoever you are, or, however it works.  It’s fine with me, if you want to be like this more,” Thor says, watching the movement of Loki’s nail when a spark of Seidr blackens the wood beneath her fingertip. 

“I don’t want, or need, your affirmation,” Loki says tartly, though she feels a little tension leave her shoulders.  “Are we done?”

“No,” Thor says firmly, leaning back to look up at the ceiling, “I can’t keep pretending that it didn’t happen, and frankly I don’t see how you can either.” 

Loki says nothing and they fall into an uncomfortable silence.  It’s too public a place to be discussing this, even drowned in the shouts and chatter of the room.  She finishes her drink, wistfully hoping the alcohol might numb her emotions a little.

“I’ve been thinking,” Thor says after a while.

“That’s dangerous,” she quips.

“It is,” Thor agrees.  “For the manner of my thoughts has been quite unsavoury.”

Loki crosses her arms reflexively and slouches back, feeling as if they’re careering towards _something_ , and the something is dangerous.

“Come upstairs so we can talk,” Thor says, a heaviness in his voice that Loki cannot miss.  She glances at him and he simply gestures to the stairs.

Loki nods, and they slip from the table together and disappear upstairs.  This time Thor walks beside her and it is Loki who falls behind when standing so close suddenly feels wrong.

Once again, locked in the silence of an empty room Loki turns to face her brother.

Thor ignites the firewood in the hearth with a bolt of lightning and a pleasant warm glow fills the room.  He moves to stand in front of it, warming his hands.  Loki stands a comfortable distance away from him.

“Well, spit it out,” she says, working to keep the nerves from her voice.  Thor turns to face her, studying her in the low light.  She feels stripped bare before him, every putrid secret spilling from her lips without the need to say a word.

“It’s very… real,” Thor says after a while, almost reaching out to touch the curve of her waist.

“It’s not an illusion,” Loki replies tersely, staring into the flames to avoid the painful honesty in his face, “I told you that.”

“I see _you_ now, though,” Thor continues.  He reaches to turn her head towards him with a gentle touch to her cheek, and she bends to his will.  “I don’t know how I could have thought you were anyone else.” A pause.  “Maybe I didn’t.”

Loki frowns.  This conversation has not gone the way she expected - full of anger and shouted words of betrayal - so she is content to let Thor lead, for now.  His hand drops from her cheek, briefly ghosting over the curve of her jaw. 

“When I saw you in the tavern, my first thought was how much you reminded me of… well, you,” he says, “After that, it was the way you spoke, your body language, I couldn’t stop thinking about you, or how badly I wanted to taste your lips on mine.”

Loki crosses her arms, unsure what to do in light of Thor’s confession.

“When I left, all I could think about was you.  The way it felt to have you in my lap, how good you felt and… how badly I wanted to do it again.”

Loki takes a shaky breath to steady her nerves.

“So you avoided me for a month.”

“You were the one slipping from the room whenever I arrived, Loki,” Thor says bemused, “I could have caught a fish blindfolded with my hands tied behind my back easier than I could corner you.”

Loki shrugs.

“What are you saying then?” Loki asks, unsure if she actually wants to hear the answer.  “You’re enamoured with someone who doesn’t exist?”

Thor shakes his head, “At first I kept telling myself it was because you tricked me, and what I was lusting after was this imaginary woman you had created.”

He looks away, watching the flames dance in the fireplace, “But, I’d be lying if I said I had never considered… well, that I had never wanted you like that.”

“Then why kick off so dramatically.  If you really felt that way why not tell me then?” Loki asks.

“Because you scared the shit out of me Loki! I never expected my feelings to be returned and then all of a sudden it had already happened and I had no idea! In a room full of people!” Thor shouts. “I didn’t know what to think, it’s not beyond you to take a trick too far…”

Loki takes a step closer, leaving a careful distance between them still and hoping the sincerity in her voice isn’t missed. “I… never expected it to go that far,” she says quietly, “I knew it was, well… that I was taking advantage of you.  I never intended for you to find out.”

“Isn’t that worse?” Thor asks.  Loki falls silent.

“We’re not very good at talking,” Thor says after a while.

“No,” Loki agrees, “Though this was never going to be something easy to talk about. Still, it was just a kiss, we can get past this.”

Thor rubs his hand over his beard, visibly chewing through his thoughts. “I’m not sure I want to move past this,” he says, “And it was a little more than a kiss, Loki, I had you in my lap moaning like a-”

Loki cocks an eyebrow at him, daring him to speak another word.  Thor readjusts.

“I love you Loki, I have always loved you, a great deal more than I probably should…”

Loki begins to pace restlessly, the weight of their topic weighing heavily on her shoulders.

“Seeing you take lovers - not literally, though the walls between our rooms are ridiculously thin are they not?-” Thor huffs a laugh.

Loki purses her lips.

Thor continues, “-it drove me mad to know you were with them, especially when so many could have passed for me in dim lighting,” Thor pauses, “I suppose that should have been a tell, but as you say Loki, I’m not very observant, and apparently neither are you.”

“This isn’t a _game_ Thor, this is… not… done.” Loki rubs her face in frustration, “How can you be so blasé about it?”

“This-” she gestures between them viciously, “-can never see the light of day.”

“Loki,” Thor says softly, “If we both want this why does it matter?”

Thor stops her pacing with a gentle grip on her wrist and pulls her to stand before him.  Loki watches him in the dim firelight, mulls over his words as her heart flutters distractingly in her chest.

“If what you speak is true, you will have no qualms with me like this either,” Loki says as he takes his more usual form in a flash of green.

“I would have you for you, Loki,” Thor says without a beat, his voice laden with affection. “In any of your forms.”

Thor takes a step forward and Loki matches it backward, keeping distance between them.

“When we fought, I asked you if you wanted me, and you didn’t reply, so I’m asking again - do you want this?” Thor asks.

“Thor,” Loki warns, “Let it go.  This will destroy us.”

“Perhaps I have tasted poison and now I will die, but I fear I will die sooner if I do not get to taste it again,” Thor says, taking another step.

“That’s a bit dramatic,” Loki grins, stopping when his back hits the wall and he has nowhere left to go, not from his desires or from the subject of them that’s currently pressed up against him with a hand on the back of his neck.

“Possibly, but I thought you loved dramatics,” Thor murmurs, moving up against Loki until there’s not a breath of space between them.

“What are you doing,” Loki asks, voice barely a whisper.

“Answer my question Loki,” Thor says, thumb stroking along Loki’s jaw.

“We can’t,” Loki says desperately, “You _know_ we can’t.”

“Tell me to stop.”

Loki remains silent, eyes glancing down to Thor’s lips, afraid of what could happen if he is caught in Thor’s gaze.

“Tell me you don’t want it,” Thor challenges, leaning closer until their noses brush, “Tell me you were just playing a cruel trick when you sat in my lap and kissed me back.”

“I can’t,” Loki confesses, lifting his hands to cup Thor’s jaw. He closes his eyes, losing himself to the feel of Thor’s body against his and their shared breath coming hot between them. “I can’t.”

“Do you want me?” Thor asks.

Loki lets out a long, weary sigh, readying himself for the plunge.

“I do,” he says finally, gripping a fistful of Thor’s hair and kissing him like it’s the last saving grace in existence.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm back from my hiatus and I bring you this! My first fic with only a mild reference to asphyxiation.
> 
> Thanks for reading + thanks to DreadBehemoth for Beta reading!


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